


Fenrisúlfr

by TellThemNaegi



Series: Fragments [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Dubious Morality, Holding People at Gun Point Never Works, Multi, Mystery, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Self-Reflection, Supernatural Elements, Tie-in To Another Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-11 20:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13531665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellThemNaegi/pseuds/TellThemNaegi
Summary: Mukuro Ikusaba was never one to think for herself. In the past, those details were left to her sister, Junko. In the present, her commanders in Fenrir took hold of that leash. However, on a journey of self-discovery and betrayal, Mukuro is forced to contemplate: Who is the servant? Who is the master? Who is the one truly rebelling?(All the while, a plot stirs in the shadows.)





	Fenrisúlfr

**Author's Note:**

> While this fic easter eggs (very) important plot points in Riposa, knowledge of that series is not necessary to enjoy this one. The primary focus is the insight Mukuro gains from experiences with Fenrir's other members, who each mirror an aspect of her identity, insecurities and aspirations.

- **Jötunheimr** -

 

Fenrir - An infamous wolf of legend and the son of Loki, said to have unlimited potential for growth. The gods feared the beast's evolution and chose to bind it in chains. A temporary measure for Fenrir grew larger by the second and would one day break free. The promised day was Ragnarok; the time where Fenrir would swallow the whole world in retribution.

In the modern age, the name had greater affiliation with an unrivaled mercenary group boasting only the most hardened of men. There was no organization, no military faction in the world who were ignorant of Fenrir’s accomplishments. No matter the mission, it could and would be completed unfailingly. World leaders would often hire the organization for secret assassinations then claim the glory for themselves. At times, Fenrir’s success presented an issue to third parties. They harbored the fear that a mercenary team with no strict allegiance to anyone and an absurd record, could one day be turned against them. Betrayals had been attempted in the past under the guise of clientele. The perpetrators were, in all counts, slaughtered.

Nobody knew how or when the beast was formed, and nobody cared. Fenrir existed as a destructive force of nature, and all that could be done was pray the Fangs of the beast weren’t turned against you. While this was an appropriate perspective for an outsider. What Fenrir was on like on the inside was very different. The ordinary members did not consider themselves invincible, they were simply efficient. They did their jobs without exerting more effort than necessary and kept casualties to a minimum. They had no central base, but a phalanx of soldiers and hideouts scattered across the globe and were constantly on the move. Those within Fenrir…or rather those who were burdened by the ability to think for themselves understood that a massive amount of money and preparation must have been placed into organization, long before it became famous enough to catch the attention of world powers. Members were orphans conscripted at a young age; usually from ravaged territories. Some believed the purpose of enlisting child soldiers was to develop their skills early in hopes of creating a superior soldier. Others argued an even simpler reasoning: 'The dog that you’ve raised and fed since infancy will never bite you. Even if it were to become a wolf.'

Fenrir had but one rule: Do not betray. A broad law that extended to a number of actions; do not turn against a comrade, do not abandon a comrade, do not forsake the mission, do not demean the integrity of the group etc etc. The most abominable act of all was, in essence, distension. However, betrayal was an occurrence with such a low possibility that the rule may as well have not existed. There was not a single claw in the beast that would turn against the host for they all knew what fate would be in store for them. Even sleeper agents would prove fruitless. Cadets were never taught or given vital information for several years…and by then, they would have been broken down, mentally and physically to the point where they wouldn’t have the energy to contemplate betrayal. It didn’t help that seeing the proficiency of experienced officers would drain the will to betray and instead foster admiration for their skill, and with it, the desire to attain that level for themselves. Additionally, the group raised enough currency annually to rival that of a country. None wanted for money. To put it simply...a man willing to stick his arm inside the mouth of a carnivorous beast should not be surprised to lose it. Even less to wonder why it would dissolve inside the beast’s belly and strengthen it with nutrition.

Mukuro Ikusaba was a special case. She joined Fenrir at the ripe age of 13; that by itself was nothing remarkable for the group had much younger cadets. No, the absurdity was that Mukuro _chose to join_. The freckled teen was not lured in by promises in moments of weakness, nor was she a starving orphan with no better alternative. A background check had been carried out and it was discovered Mukuro came from an otherwise ordinary family, who had filed their daughter as missing. This girl had not been kidnapped, she simply left in search of them after reading a public debriefing of one of their missions in the middle east. And what left an even greater impression was that the girl _found_ them. Throughout the ages, there few who accomplished similar feats. Most were spies and dealt with accordingly. Others were psychopaths who lived only for the thrill of the kill; berserkers. Those often made the best soldiers…and they also expired the fastest, lasting months to maybe a year. The ones who survived for longer…those were the true monsters and were called, The Fangs of the beast. A title reserved for only Fenrir's greatest champions.

Needless to say, hopes for Mukuro in the long-term were slim. The raven-haired cadet was exceptionally gifted, breezing through training as if it were child’s play. Mukuro had not broken down, never cried. Her disposition had not changed an iota from when she first arrived. And the most frightening of all, Mukuro had never been wounded in combat. Not a bruise from training, not a graze from bullet fire. Not even the blood of her victims was graced with the honor of staining her uniform. Mukuro was no berserker, but a machine. Not because of her ever-dispassionate demeanor but the fact that she never made mistakes and fulfilled her duties as a soldier with perfect accuracy. After the first year, Mukuro Ikusaba became one of the fangs.

 

- **Ásgarðr** -

 

Valhalla, the halls of Asgard where glory awaited the most esteemed warriors. The commanders called it their destination, their salvation. The end of a journey paved with unparalleled strife; it is what they fought for and what they were certainly promised…so long as they, the soldiers, fought for it earnestly and unrelentingly. In Mukuro’s opinion, Valhalla was an irresponsible dialect without concreted definition. It simply meant happiness/ In other words, it’s nature existed entirely in the hearts of the person(s) in question. To some, Valhalla could be a life of reaches and fame. To others, an escape from suffering. In some rare cases, perhaps they relished killing and were thankful for the excuse of war. The commanders never inquired as to their personal joys; speaking of oneself was an unspoken taboo, lest one bring misfortune upon them. Thus, Mukuro could not understand how this happiness could be promised, much less granted by anyone save one’s self. Yet her comrades believed in the promise, all of them. Why else would they ride into battle in confidence of their reward? There was no other reason.

And what of her? Mukuro didn't know where her happiness lied, she fought to survive and was content acknowledging little else. Or that is to say, she had forgotten everything else. In that sense, one could say the battlefield itself was her Valhalla. That wasn't the equivalent of Mukuro enjoying battle. She felt nothing for it, nor did she care for slaughter. Naturally, that also meant she didn’t despise either eventuality. However, Mukuro believed there was glory to be found in combat that could never be unsullied by emotion or pleasure. There was a saying that all men are equal in death – Mukuro agreed. No matter what a man achieves in life, everyone shares the same end. Even a man at the seat of the greatest military power in the world could be felled by a child with a gun and the intent to kill. Status meant nothing in combat; you could only rely on your own skill and luck. On the battlefield, to fight and **_survive_** was the ultimate expression of living.

Thus, so long as Mukuro fought, killed and survived, she was happy.

 

- **Svartálfaheimr** -

 

Mukuro’s next mission was stationed in Egypt. The objective was the liquidation of a rival mercenary group. The dossier detailed the gang’s offense. Civil war had broken out the country's ministers enlisted the mercenaries to eliminate the rebels holding politicians of high-status, captive. However, their deal had gone south, and the mercenaries took advantage of the situation and merely replaced the rebels as the ones holding the leash. The country’s leaders then sought Fenrir’s aid, knowing betraying clients was an imaginary concept to the group.

Mukuro was deployed solo; no other operatives, checks or inventory would be available. To nearly anyone else, this job would have been considered suicide. Mukuro had no particular feelings on the mission difficulty. Instead she felt revulsion for the men who called themselves soldiers yet perverted the sanctity their own mission for the sake of personal gain. Mukuro could probably discern what had gone wrong; the mercenaries were hired cheaply, even one-sidedly so. Consequently, they intended to blackmail their clients for a greater reward…or perhaps that had been their intention from the start. Regardless, her mission objective wouldn’t change. She was to execute every last one of them.

The black-haired girl slipped into the mercenary stronghold at night. Her only weapon was a knife, but that was enough. She procured assault rifles from the soldiers whose throats she’d slit on the way. A perfect infiltration, where she’d slaughter all of them without alerting the others was a cute idea, but horribly unrealistic. 5 minutes was all it took for the alarms to sound, and that too, was enough. Mukuro had already whittled down their numbers to tolerable levels. The rest would be dealt with in a frontal confrontation.

For all of Mukuro’s battle prowess, she was admittedly, something of an idiot. She had no talent for finer skills like translating, thus she could not understand a word these men spoke to her. Whether they cursed or begged for their lives, she would not understand them. However, there was one man whose words she could decipher.

“M-Mukuro Ikusaba!” The man yelled.

Naturally, Mukuro didn’t hold back because of that and killed him quickly. Nonetheless, having her name called out was a surprise. It meant she’d accumulated fame, and that was annoying. It was always better to be underestimated; her enemies were more likely to let their guard down that way. For example, upon learning her identity, the others began to run. The mercenaries now knew they’d made enemies of the beast. Again, that was annoying, because it was easier to kill them when they fought, and harder when they ran.

That was all relative though, it just meant a few more minutes of hunting them down. Once Mukuro cleaned up, she searched the rooms for in the building for hostages. And she found them, at least a dozen men and women huddled up together. Some were beaten and bruised, others suffered worse.

“W-Who’s there?” A man addressed her. Not out of fear, but bewilderment. Mukuro was a child and from the looks of it, did not have a scratch on her. They could never have imagined a little girl could wipe out a whole battalion.

“I’m Mukuro from Fenrir. And your superiors hired me.” She answered, plainly. Much like the mercs, Mukuro couldn’t understand what the hostage had actually said, but pieced it together. That also went both ways. Japanese was an incomprehensible language for them. All save one woman, who translated Mukuro’s words.

“Don’t just stand there. Get us out!” One of them regained his composure and barked at her.

Mukuro tilted her head slightly. ' _What did he say?'_

“He thanks you for saving us. Please, take us away from this hell.” The female translator pleaded.

That only made Mukuro even more confused…and so she replied.

"…"

“Huh?” The woman cocked her head in disbelief.

“Well, what did she say?” The man who’d yelled before looked to the translator. His tone wavering as he saw the puzzlement on his fellow hostage’s face. Once Mukuro finished speaking, all he saw was terror.

Before the translator could scream, her head popped like a balloon, and blood splattered everywhere. Without wasting a single movement, she opened fire on the lot of them. Mukuro’s mission was to eliminate everyone. That included the hostages. What did they mean by calling her their savior? Did they want her to kill them? If so, why did they scream?

Mukuro didn’t ponder long and opted for evacuating the area now that her mission was complete. However, she was stopped by a whimpering noise. Mukuro wasn’t sure how she missed them, but there was a bundle of children in the far back, cradled together.

Mukuro loaded her gun.

During her days in training, she had witnessed many other children succumb to illness and exhaustion. Mukuro didn’t blink an eye to their suffering, why would she now? Her fallen comrades at least acted and fought to survive.  And this was a battlefield. Be it elderly, woman or child, anyone who steps foot into it was fair game.

Then again…they weren’t part of her mission parameters. Everyone, defined the hostages and their captors. She couldn’t imagine these children were hostages; they had no strategic benefit to the rebels or the mercenaries. That meant they were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The next moment, the oldest girl stood up, arms spread wide as she approached the soldier.

Mukuro detected no threat from the small child, otherwise she’d already have shot the girl.

The child spoke with tears in her eyes, but Mukuro couldn’t understand either. Did this girl want Mukuro to ‘save’ her like the others? If so, then she wouldn’t be crying.

What did these people want from her?

“Do you want to leave?” Mukuro lowered her gun and pointed outside.

The girl nodded slowly. The others followed, fearfully.

_‘What do I do with them?’_

It wasn’t like she enjoyed killing children, and they weren’t ~~explicitly~~ included in the mission. They also posed no threat to her or Fenrir. Better yet, they couldn’t even understand what had taken place.

So she let them go.

 

- **Múspellsheimr** -

 

The next mission was special, but not altogether different from the previous ones. She was to kill, and the target was an entire China army base. Mukuro would not be alone – For the first time since ascending to her new position, she would be part of a two-man team. Which by itself spoke volumes of how difficult the operation would be. Her enemies weren’t a rag-tag band of men or undisciplined savages. These were military officials, soldiers just like she was. And their numbers ranked in the thousands. In face of that opposition, Mukuro was given a partner to even the playing field. One of the other Fangs, real name unknown, codename: Surtr.

Yes, he alone was enough to make this game of theirs, ‘fair’. But thinking back, even that was a farce.

“Ahahahahahahahaha!” A young man in a loose Chinese robe cackled, his long, fiery blonde hair fluttered in  the air, mimicking the flames burning the camp to the ground. The base had been decimated in the blink of an eye. Bodies and corpses alike were reduced to charcoal via explosives. That was the nature of Surtr, Fenrir’s weapon specialist. He was skilled with any firearm, but his preference was without a doubt, explosives. The man's thin, slender frame came as a surprise to Mukuro, considering his trade mark weapon was an M61 Vulcan cannon.

 “Do you enjoy this?” Mukuro said from behind, not minding the heat. She stared up at the man, who stood at higher ground.

“Would you look at that? The corpse speaks.” Surtr regarded her with venomous mockery, and in Japanese. Perhaps he was more intelligent than she thought...or at least that's what she would have said if he didn't slur like a crazed man. “That’s the first thing you’ve said since I got here.”

“That’s because you took off and got started before I even introduced myself…” 

“That right? My bad, I just couldn’t help myself at the thought of a challenge. Who are you, by the way?” The man, only seven years older, furrowed his eyebrows.

“Mukuro Ikusaba.”

“…Oh, The new girl! Shame, but I wasn’t able to scout out your talent.” Was he joking? He must have received information that she would be his partner. “But you’re an odd one. Using your real name. What’s your codename?”

“Einherjar." The namesake was symbolic for an undying fighter. A suitably plain name for her. "But I prefer Ikusaba.”

“Very well. Let’s call this mission an outstanding success, Ikusaba." He clapped, one arm naked and the other draped in his kimono.

"Those clothes won't help as armor." He was practically naked. A single shot and he'd be dead.

"You nuts? Who the fuck needs armor?" He looked at Mukuro like _she_ was the crazy one here. "My style is guerrilla warfare. And you have any idea hot it gets working with explosives? I'd die of a heat stroke if I wore any more layers."

"...As for your earlier question, am I enjoying myself? Do humans not laugh when they’re having fun? Or are you too dull to get a high?"

Mukuro shook her head. “We’re soldiers, not killers.”

“Suit yourself, I only enjoy being alive. And for that reason, I don’t ever want to lose to anyone. Never again.”

“Then you kill for entertainment?” Disappointing, but not uncommon.

“I don’t believe I ever said I _liked_ killing folks. I’m just happy to _not_  end up 6 feet under.”

Mukuro scrunched her face in confusion.

“Don't get it? I love a good fight, sure, but let’s say you and I got into it right now. The ideal outcome would be me putting a bullet in your head. Ideal for some, but for me, that'd be the same as ending things in a draw. So long as we fight, and I live, I’m good." Surtr slumped, sitting on the gravel. "On the flip side, there's no way I'd stand getting off'd by you, even if the result is both of us biting the big one.”

He rested his cheek on his hand in a flamboyant pose. “I don’t mind not being able to kill, just as long as I’m not killed.”

Mukuro droned. “I don’t understand. Fenrir prides success above anything else. There’s no room for defeat or a draw.”

“Then you think  I’m acting against the order’s principles? Well, that might not be far from the truth. Say, Ikusaba. I’ve heard the rumors, why did you join this band of pretentious losers?”

“…I don’t remember. Maybe I thought it’d be cool to be a mercenary.” Mukuro was certain there was more to it, but it was so long ago.

“I see. Then, are you disillusioned yet?” Surtr smirked.

“What do you mean?”

“Too tough? Then, let me rephrase: _Why.Are.You.Here?"_ He drawled as if he was speaking slowly to a dullard.

“Huh?”

“Oi vey. You said it yourself. Fenrir only cares about winning, and you know we don't give a shit about excess. So, _why were the both of us_ assigned on this mission when I could have taken care of it by myself?” He rolled. his eyes

“I don’t know.”

“Makes two of us. I don’t know either, because I wasn’t told.” His expression took on a wry smile. “But if you asked me, I think they wanted this assignment to serve as a lesson.”

“Of what?”

“That if you ever get ahead of yourself and think along the lines of “I’m the greatest”, this scene will remind you that there is always someone better.” Surtr spread his arms far, admiring his handiwork. The blazing hell he’d made of this base.

“That’s childish.” Mukuro said with contempt.

“I know right? And that's my beef with the current Fenrir. I don’t know what kinda monster this organization was in its heyday, but it’s rotten now. At the very least, it’s nearly fucking blind.” The man said with a bored expression, as if the matter didn’t concern him. “You asked why I fight for anything other than winning. But I think the question should be phrased the other way around. So I’ll ask you instead. Why get so banged up on winning, if there's no point to it?”

“I don’t know.” She repeated like a broken record. Mukuro hadn’t been taught these things.

Surtr sighed in almost expected disappointment. “You know that Ragnarok story, right? The one where our favorite doggo kills the big guy, Odin?. Yeah, the dorks upstairs tried preventing this by chaining Fenrir way back when it was a kid.”

“I’m aware. What of it?”

“Doesn't it sound dumb as hell?”

Mukuro furrowed her eyebrows

“To me, it looks like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Beasts are territorial by nature, they guard and hunt in their own domain, because that's  all they know. Why would Fenrir leave all that to kill off an old man in a world far off his own?”

Mukuro was puzzled, but if she had to give a reason based on the simplification of the tale, there was a rather obvious one…

“In my opinion, he wanted to get even. A bunch of oddly dressed weirdos show up one day and imprison you for no good reason? I’d want to break out and kill them too. If you ask me, the Asgardians dug their own grave out of fear and gave Fenrir a reason to fight them.” Surtr chuckled as if he’d heard a low-brow joke. “So you see, even Fenrir fought with a reason. But what about us…and what of you?”

“…I don’t know.” She felt a lot more conscious about those words this time.

“Thought so. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have asked such a stupid question. Guess, it’s not your fault. You pups are trained that way. The difference between you and the rest of us Fangs, isn’t skill. It’s that we never lost the ability to think for ourselves. In my case, to fight and survive in ecstasy, without caring for anyone else…that is my Valhalla. I don't need anything else. And I wouldn't know what to do with any more baggage.”

Mukuro stood, contemplating what she'd been told. She felt there was a message here somewhere, but after pondering, it was irrelevant information.

“I will report back.” Mukuro turned away.

“Ah one more thing.” The voice called from behind. At the sound of bullet fire, Mukuro instinctively dodged the projectile coming her way.

“What are you doing?” She aimed her own rifle at the odious man, who'd leapt off the high ground 

“I’d heard you’d never been hit before, so I wanted to test it. Not bad. You pass.”

…

Mukuro fired back, only her bullet grazed his cheek and drew blood.

...

Surtr tilted his head. “You picking a fight with me?”

“No. Look behind you.”

The man narrowed his eyes and turned around. There was a soldier, a commander by his decorated garments, lying on the ground. A bullet lodged in his skull, and a gun in his cold hands.

A bead of sweat ran down Surtr’s chin “Ahahaha.”

“If you care so much about surviving then at least watch your own back.”

“Gotcha, boss.” He wiped the blood off his cheek

“…Are all the others like you?” She'd hope for solo missions more if that was the case.

“The Fangs I've met in my day are a colorful bunch. Freya, Valkyrie and Thor. They’re nothing like me, who enjoys fighting. But they’re even further apart from you.”

Mukuro nodded.

“Do you plan on betraying Fenrir?” She asked one more question.

“No way. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if I mysteriously vanished off the face of the Earth, tomorrow…” He spoke, cryptically.

With that, Mukuro went on her way.

“Ah…but Valkyrie….” The man snickered to himself, recounting an amusing tale.

[ **  
** ](http://mythology.wikia.com/wiki/Svart%C3%A1lfaheim?action=edit)

- **Niflheimr** -

 

Mukuro experienced Russian winter for the first time. She trudged through the snow, pelted by a freezing blizzard that seemed to go on endlessly. Mukuro had no affinity for cold, and even the gear she wore aided little. Her objective did not involve combat. She was to procure classified documents from another agent. The storm made it impossible for aircrafts and alike to venture. Not that it would matter as the Russian military would detect vehicles in their territory. In a way, this mission had been the hardest thus far.

*cough*

Mukuro couldn’t even say her vision had gotten blurry, the blizzard made sure she couldn’t see anything in the first place. Any sensation of pain had also been numbed.

She had trekked 9 kilometers and it would appear that would be her stopping point. Her knees gave as she sunk into the snow

Why was she here? Why did she slave herself to bloodshed and pain? It was because…

**_('Drink up, big sis')_ **

A moment before she blacked out, Mukuro heard a familiar voice, which he hadn't in too long.

…Junko.

…

…Warm.

Mukuro slowly woke up to the warmth of an open fire. She sneezed, uncharacteristically and felt light-headed.

‘How embarrassing.’ She thought, trying to move her head.

“You shouldn’t get up just yet.” Said a melodious voice.

Mukuro’s eyes shot up at the voice…right above her. The soldier couldn’t fathom how she failed to notice that her head had been placed on a woman’s lap. Being half-asleep was no excuse, she could have been killed under those conditions. The soldier rolled sideways, landed and placed her back to the wall. Next, she pulled out her pistol from the side a few meters away and immediately took notice of her surroundings. She was stuck in a cave, the makeshift fireplace being the only light source.

“W-Who are you?” Mukuro held the woman at gunpoint and then bore witness to yet another absurdity. In that horrible weather, this person wore nothing more than a white blouse. But beyond even that were her breathtaking features; beautiful enough to drive men insane. She had long, cerulean hair, glowing blue eyes to match and porcelain skin.

Mukuro herself had to give pause. Mukuro had only ever known one person who could match that beauty. “Junko…?” And right now, this woman was also reminding Mukuro of her little sister, despite their appearance greatly differing.

“Junko? Is that someone close to you?”

“Answer my question. Who are you?” Mukuro ordered.

The woman shook her head, still smiling. As if mocking a child’s petulance.

 “I’m Valkyrie. Pleased to meet you, my fellow maiden of war.”

Mukuro blinked. The dossier hadn’t mentioned the name of the agent, they would simply hand over the documents and be on their way. Of course, the other agent would not know her identity either. She needed to say the passcode first.

“No need. I know you’re Einherjar.” The-so called Valkyrie anticipated her thoughts.

“How?” Mukuro arched an eyebrow.

“Would you believe me if I said there was none other, reckless enough to brave that storm without a very good purpose. Plus, the gun tipped me off that you were a soldier.”

“I could still be an enemy.”

“Dear, if you were? You would be sleeping right now...permanenetly.” She who called herself Valkyrie pulled out a thin file, wrapped to protect the contents from the cold. “This is what you’re here for.”

Mukuro skimmed over the file, searching for select wordings to verify its authenticity. “It checks out. Thank you.”

“No problem…though, I’m surprised Einherjar would fall to a little breeze like that. Can't handle cold?” The woman’s smile didn’t waver…nor did it reach her eyes. Mukuro couldn’t tell if she was genuinely being reprimanded or Valkyrie felt like playing with her. It seemed all the fangs may be unpleasant people.

“It was my first time.” Mukuro sulked.

“Is that right?” She giggled “Well, just stay here until the worst of It blows over. You woke up at a good time, there should be a few minutes left, Einherjar.”

“Ikusaba. Call me that please.” She was an oddity of the bunch. Nobody else liked to be reminded of their past or expose personal details. 

 “That’s great, and I agree! The Norse motif is way too tacky. It might have been cool 943 years ago but _come on_ , it’s totally embarrassing now.” Valkyrie laughed.

Mukuro wondered if she misjudged Valkyrie’s character. Right now, she was sounding like Junko.

...And wasn't that a very specific number?

“You surprised. Did you think I was the gaudy type? Sorry, that’s one of my worst roles to play, right next to an innocent, lost maiden. I get bored of them within minutes, you see. Ah, maybe I'll go for a plain girl next time.” She claimed to have reverted back to her original persona…yet her expression refused to do the same. “I’m Anastasia Eclair. Call me Anne. ”

“Anne. Are you dissatisfied with Fenrir too?” Mukuro got the feeling, based on how she mocked their commanders.

“Hm? Weird question, some might consider it mutiny. Not me though, because I couldn’t care less about Fenrir now. Though I guess Cain can still amuse me.”

"Cain?"

“Thor. I’d say he is our very best guy. Probably why he has the title.” Anne chuckled. Mukuro wasn’t sure to make of the woman dismissing the highest prestige awarded to a Fenrir of soldier as almost trivial.

“If you're not interested in the group, why are you here?” Mukuro wasn't normally one to delve into the lives of anybody, but her conversation with Surtr months ago still rang in her head. And she wanted an answer.

“To meet people like yourself." Anne pointed. "Honestly, I’m getting massive déjà vu here. Maybe we’ve met before in a previous life? At the very least, this doesn’t feel like our first conversation.” 

Mukuro scrunched her face at the eccentric “Make sense, please?”

“I’m rambling. Truth be told, the real-world bores me, I’m not really interested in normies. I’m more likely to meet interesting people in a place as unorthodox as the frontlines. That is my answer.”  

“I’ve never met anyone interesting out here.” Mukuro cocked her head.

“Damn. That hurts.”

“Ah, I didn’t mean-“

“I know you didn’t. You’re too dull to say something that interesting. You’re ordinary, incompetent and worst of all, a dog that can’t do anything without someone pulling your leash.” Those insults should not have come from a face as serene as hers, but Mukuro felt it was completely natural.

That sounded like…Junko.

“I won’t deny that. As a soldier, I shouldn’t do anything more than what’s asked of me.” Mukuro argued.

“I see. In that case, why let Maaya, Isaac and Mikhail go?” As if she'd directed their conversation to this point, Valkyrie brought a finger to her lips and giggled

“…Who?”

“You don’t know? Those are the names of the children you let go free in Egypt. No clue why…say, wasn’t your mission to kill _everyone_ in the facility?” The woman said, mockingly.

“…They weren’t armed or hostages.” Mukuro replied.

“But they were witnesses.” Valkyrie sneered. “Don’t worry your head about a thing though. I took care of them, and nobody found out.”

“You…killed them? Why!?” Mukuro found herself yelling.

“...Well now, not quite the machine you claim to be, and that’s why I like you. How couldn’t I like a girl who made the executive decision to circumvent orders for such cute children?”

“That’s not the point. They were harmless.”

“The little ones are dangerous, Mukuro.” Valkyrie silenced her. “Children are the future; thus they are also the end. It wouldn’t surprise me if a child would end this world one day.”

“You think a bunch of kids could beat us?”

Valkyrie's shoulders sagged, giving Mukuro the impression that she'd asked the wrong question.

“Who knows? Maaya was very strong-willed. Did you know she was the daughter of one of the mercenaries you killed? All of those kids were, but she swallowed her hatred of you to protect them. Thinking back, they were cute as heck, Mikhail wanted to be an actor. Isn’t that adorable? I’m starting to regret shooting them...oh well, they’d have died in about 4-6 years anyway, give or take.”

“…Why do you know so much about those children?” This was strange. Valkyrie spoke as if she knew them intimately.

“I made them tell me, right before I killed them. It’s a hobby of mine; I don’t like forgetting my victims. It leaves a sour aftertaste in my mouth.”

Such a reason“...It sounds like you’re mocking them to me.”

“Does it? I swear that’s not my intention.” Mukuro didn't believe that for an instant “Then again, I might be getting bored, waiting for an old project of mine to reach completion. It feels like ages, really.”

Mukuro frowned.

“Don’t pout, I really did think those kids be a threat one day.” She chuckled anyway. “In the folklore, Fenrir was chained thanks to the efforts of a pack of dwarves from Svartálfaheim. If you ask me, if they could chain the beast, then maybe it wasn’t altogether impossible for them to kill it.” She spoke as if it were a prophecy.

“Not like I’d know though. I’m not an omniscient god after all.” She shrugged. “But I think it’d be funny. This beast that has walked the Earth unrivaled for centuries, brought down by a child. A perfect way to end such a pointless story.” She gazed at Mukuro knowingly.

Mukuro had long stopped being able to reply. This woman was overwhelming. In some cases, even worse than Surtr. At least his madness was straightforward. Anastasia just felt like she overlooked everyone and everything, as if nothing even mattered. It made Mukuro’s skin crawl.

“But you should get some rest. I’d planned on the storm clearing earlier but I got caught up in banter. Typical.”

Mukuro was about to argue, before she felt her body grow heavy.

“Ah Ikusaba. There is one thing I should say. Throughout this conversation, I lied twice.” Were the last words Mukuro heard.

When the soldier awoke, Valkyrie was gone. And so was the storm, as if she’d heralded it herself.  Fortunately, the classified files were still there, thus Mukuro considered her objective achieved. The trek on the way back to their temporary base was easier.

Her commander had congratulated Mukuro on a job well done.

“As expected, rookie. You really live up to the hype.” The bulky man said, taking a swig of alcohol. The very action repulsed Mukuro. A man in charge of an army debilitating himself with poison was an affront to a soldier’s dignity. Yet it wasn’t just him. A lot of the men she knew did this.

“I would have to thank Valkyrie for her assistance.” Mukuro admitted

The commander gazed at Mukuro strangely. Then called one of his subordinates, speaking to him in a foreign language. “The cold must have gotten to her. Get her a psychiatric evaluation.”

Mukuro couldn’t understand what came after but she believed only one thing at present. That chilling storm they’d valiantly praised her for overcoming, was but a summer day compared to Valkyrie’s heart of ice.

 

- **Álfheimr** -

 

“Big Sister Mukuro, let’s go play!” were words Mukuro never expected to hear in her entire life.

Right now, she was surrounded by a group of children tugging at her civilian wear. Mukuro wasn’t the least bit versed in handling them and she could only make out the slightest of their words.

“Let’s go then.” Mukuro muttered, pouting. The children laughed at her poor accent.  _'Give me a break. As if an idiot like me could speak Brazilian fluently.'_

One of the children tossed her a soccer ball, which she caught in her hands. Afterwards she showed them a few tricks she’d learned to pass the time as a kid. They all observed her with cheer, interest and excitement. It was all so foreign. Not having anyone berate her for slacking off or being called by a cacophony of insults by Junko.

It was all so strange for Mukuro to entertain these kids all the way till sundown. She’d first arrived in this small town a few days ago and the community had all taken a liking to her.

Upon nightfall, Mukuro returned to her temporary residence. A church.

“Did you enjoy yourself today, Mukuro?” Said Sister Viktoria, the only nun in town. A youthful, tanned-skin beauty with jet-black hair and a figure that would make most think her choice of career was an affront to justice. Or so Mukuro had often heard from the weeping men in town.

“I…think so.”

Viktoria gently laughed “That means yes. If the children were an inconvenience, then you’d know.”

“I’ve never been good at expressing myself. The kindness everyone shows…it puts me on edge.”

“A child who can’t accept love is a very sad thing, you know? Nobody can live without it.”

Mukuro shrugged “I’ve been doing fine.”

“Then, you can say that you’re living right now?”

“I’m breathing, aren’t I?”

“I meant that as in, what have you experienced in life? What can you say you’re proud of?”

“My skills. I’m a good fighter.”

“Then you enjoy fighting?”

“No.”

“Then why be proud of what you don’t like using?”

“It lets me survive.”

“Why do you wish to survive?”

“Because…” Why?

**_(‘Why get so banged up on winning, if there's no point to it?')_ **

“I don’t know.” Mukuro gave the same answer she had back then.

“I thought not.” Viktoria looked down at her with pity. “But you know, there doesn’t need to be a reason. You had it right the first time; just being able to breath is a treasure in of itself.”

“Then why the questions?”

“I also don’t see a point to life if there’s nothing you enjoy out of it. I wondered if you had something like that…and after seeing the difficulty you had answering my questions, I don’t believe you do.” Viktoria frowned.

Mukuro shifted awkwardly, not knowing what to say. “I’ve been doing fine so far…I think.”

“Yes. If we’re speaking relatively, I suppose that’s true.” The sister ran her hand through a lock of hair, smiling ruefully.

...

“Mukuro.” Mukuro took a walk the next morning, where she was addressed by the mayor and one of the few Japanese speakers in town.

“Caleb. Did you need something?”

“Not much. I wanted to see how you’re getting used to this place.”

“I’m adapting well. Everyone’s…nice.” Even if Mukuro felt she didn’t deserve a pittance of that kindness.

The gruff man nodded with a big smile. “Great! The kids love you too. As expected from one of Sister Viktoria’s friends.”

“Viktoria is thought of highly by you all. May I ask why?”

“Why else? Viktoria is our jewel, our goddess.”

That was some praise…but she had heard similar words before from the townsfolk “Why do you love her so much?”

“I suppose there’s no harm in telling you now that you’ve seen what we’re like and all.” Caleb scratched his chin. “This town was hell before she came a few years ago; a den of criminals and bandits. You couldn’t stay one night without living in fear of not waking up tomorrow. The kids had it the worst.”

Mukuro furrowed her eyebrows in disbelief. “One woman changed this?”

“Yes. She waltzed in here one day and rounded everyone up at the town center, cradling a child’s body in her arms. She apparently found him beaten to the point he died, and asked for the one responsible to step up. When nobody did, she preached and reprimanded us about how unmannerly and sinful we all were. Words of a saint if I’d ever heard one.”

“And you listened?” A few words were enough to transform the hearts of an entire town? Mukuro had heard of powerful charisma before, but this was-

“Ha? No fucking way. We thought she was batshit crazy!” Caleb laughed. “But crazy or not, she had quite the body, and that got a few of the fellas riled up, if you’re old enough to understand that.”

Mukuro didn’t.

“She beat the crap out of each and every last one of us. Can you believe it? Some of the baddest fucks you’d ever meet were beaten within an inch of their life by a nun. The kind of shit you’d only see in fiction.” He swayed his head in self-mockery.

“She forced you to submit. I get that.” The weak bows to the strong. The strong dictates the rules. The simplest logic imaginable.

“No. We had pride you know, and it ain’t easy turning around from a life of scum, just getting our ass kicked wouldn’t have been enough.” He sighed. “Sister Viktoria personally nursed each and every one of us back to health.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Beats me. But all I can tell you is that she had the warmth of a mother. Something nearly all of us had missed out on in childhood. She didn’t spare a single one of us, be it man woman or even the children.”

“She beat them up too?”

“They were quite the little rascals, but they did what they needed to in order to survive.”

Once again, this was something Mukuro could not picture. To her, those children were like a far-off dream.

“For the first time, we were scolded. And it felt good. Afterwards, the sister took up residence here and started a church. Then we began leading honest lives.”

“Honest?” Mukuro asked, skeptically.

“Hey, I don’t kill or steal much anymore.” Now, they swindled and ran con-man rings. 

“…Then, you got beaten up too.” Mukuro smirked.

“Ahahahahaha.” Caleb laughed.

“Do you know anything else about the sister?” Mukuro asked.

“No. Nobody knows where she came from, but we don’t care, and we won’t ask. Just her being here is enough for us all. And our only wish is that she never leaves.” Caleb gazed at Mukuro with an indiscernible expression. “Well, everyone dies so that can’t be helped. But Sister Viktoria is our village’s treasure and is as much a part of it as the ground we walk on. We will never part with her.”

Mukuro felt there was meaning to those words. She wasn’t sure how much of that story she could believe. Caleb had no reason to lie, but there are somethings a person couldn’t accept without seeing it with their own eyes. Yet she would witness proof that very evening.

She spotted a band of children accosted by a large man. She had never seen him before, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t a native. Mukuro discerned the man was after the loaf of bread held by one of the children. It was clear that he was a simple vagabond doing what he could to live.

What Mukuro couldn’t understand were the adults, who ignored the situation altogether. Even the women that she’d known to be amiable, chatted amongst themselves without regard for the children’s lives.

Mukuro drew out a knife from her skirt and approached the thief. “If they’re not going to help then I-“

For what seemed like the 10th time that day, Mukuro was thrown into shock. In the blink of an eye, those children had toppled that goliath, with almost seamless teamwork. That couldn’t have been achievable without practice.

Then Mukuro remembered Caleb’s words.

“Did whatever they could to survive, huh?” Then it was likely everyone in this town was just like her.

“Sister Mukuro!” One of the children ran up to her “Could you help us take this guy to the church? He’s huge! We can’t lift him.”

Mukuro nodded and with her small body, lifted the man with one arm and placed him on her back. The intent was to bring him back to Viktoria, likely to be treated.

The concept was asinine. Why do they heal their enemies?

“Why?” Viktoria pondered, after she’d finished treating the thief’s wounds. “He is human, like all of us. He’s made mistakes…but there’s no reason for him to die for them.”

Truly a model human. Mukuro was getting tired of this farce, she had a job to do. She’d learned enough, and it was nightfall. This was a good a time as any.

“Those words are hollow coming from you, Viktoria de Sade. Or should I call you Freya, the foremost assassin in Fenrir?” Mukuro pulled out her pistol and aimed at the unmasked assassin.

Viktoria…Freya let out a sigh, facing the gun with nothing more than exasperation. “Former Assassin. I’ve left that line of business.”

“Then you know why I’m here. Fenrir doesn’t forgive desertion.”

“I know, Mukuro Ikusaba. Fenrir’s newest prodigy.”

Mukuro blinked. “You know about me?”

“You didn’t bother to disguise your face…or even your name. You were often talked about back when I was still a member. It was my job to assassinate priority targets…of course, that also included some of our own. Why _wouldn’t_ I know you?”

Mukuro relaxed. “So that’s what you meant when you told the town I was a friend. I thought you were only trying to help me fit in.”

Freya laughed. It wasn’t one of mockery and, even in this situation, it radiated kindness. Incomparable to… _that_  woman. “You are every bit the age you appear to be. That makes me glad, and at the same time, pitiful. What is a child like you doing stealing lives away?”

“I do what I have to, succinctly.”

Freya shook her head. “I was projecting. That was a question aimed at myself; merely a thought I’ve wondered for too long.”

“Is that why you betrayed us?”

“Betrayal? Fenrir doesn’t know the meaning of the word.” For the first time, Mukuro saw the face Freya had tried to hide. It was the face of a stone-killer befitting her former position. Indeed, this woman who was praised, and gave off the aura of a saint, was in fact the one with the sole highest kill-count in all of Fenrir.

Another first occurred at that moment, Mukuro shuddered with an emotion she couldn’t describe. It was unneeded. A part of her that she believed she’d discarded. An emotion all humans possess.

Fear. She held this woman at gunpoint, so why did it feel like she was the one who’d been cornered?

“I was made to join Fenrir as a child, like all the others. I trained and watched the few I called friends, family, die, unable to withstand the pressure. Only two of us managed to escape that hell.” Freya showed a sad smile. “After that, I began killing...and I was very good at it. Tell me, Mukuro. Do you like killing?”

“…No.” She killed because she needed to, but she never once took pleasure in it.

“That’s a good girl.” A bizarre compliment for a trained killer. Much less one who already proclaimed to be their executioner. Yet this woman, looked ready to pat Mukuro on the head for her answer.

“I was wondering what sort of person would turn up on my door one day, but I couldn’t have received a more pleasant surprise.” She giggled.

“Y-You’re making me uncomfortable.” Mukuro muttered, shyly, choosing to go along with the absurdity of the situation.

“Sorry, you’re so cute that I got carried away. Now where were we…” The woman tilted her head. “Ah, have you ever heard the saying that killing only gets easier the more you do it? Please get those ridiculous ideas out of your head, if you buy into it. Killing never got easier for me. The weight of my sins merely kept piling up. Day after day, I wondered ‘Why do I kill?’”

“To survive.” Mukuro answered for her.

“Yes. If I didn’t kill, then I would be killed. But was I really living in the first place?”

“This…sounds like the conversation we had yesterday.”

“Smart. Now I wonder if you could answer me properly this time...what joy do you find in living?”

“This won’t change my mind.”

 “I have no intention of doing such a thing. In fact, if you were to refuse, I would force you to kill me.”

Mukuro didn’t understand, so she chose to answer the question “None.”

“No. Nobody can live for nothing. Not for long anyway.”

“Then…what were you living for?” Mukuro turned the question away. Truthfully, she was rather bashful at the moment.

“Hmm, I had forgotten amidst all the bloodshed, but it was for the person I loved. A woman, one of my only comrades along with Cain and also one of Fenrir’s finest at the time. Her name was Kára. She was the other one of my group who survived training and was also our leader. Kára was a bit wild, but she was also like our mother…although she’d always get angry at us for calling her old.” Freya giggled, lost in her own memories.

“You all may call me a saint, or a holy mother, but I’m none of those things. At best, I’m only imitating one.”

“…Kára?”

“Yes. I’m merely copying her personality. I had nothing left for myself after all, not since that day…” She trailed off “Even after graduating training, Kára never forgot the names of our friends, and unlike me who killed without purpose, she never forgot the name of her victims either. She remembered each and every one. Have you ever heard of something so ridiculous?”

She had…but the person Freya was describing was altogether different from who Mukuro had in mind.

“But that nature of hers drew everyone in. Myself included, though I doubt she ever noticed.” Freya frowned.

“You keep speaking in past-tense. Am I to assume…” Mukuro asked

“Yes, it is as you think. Kára was extremely popular, and that turned out to be her undoing. The higher-ups feared she might orchestrate a rebellion and ordered her assassination.”

“So she turned a traitor?”

“No, I chose my words carefully. They _feared_ rebellion. In other words, it had not happened. There was no proof it would either. They were simply afraid of the possibility.”

“…Stupid.” That was no reason to execute a good soldier.

“Absurdly so. But that begged the question of who they would send. It was myself, of course. Nobody could do it. Cain was already on a mission. They probably bagged on the possibility that Kára wouldn’t fight against me; the only friend from her ‘childhood’ she had left.”

“And were they right?”

“Yes, as much I loathe to admit it. I killed her, who didn’t fight back.” The former assassin narrowed her eyes.

“That was the last time. I swore that I would never take another life, nor would I tolerate the taking of lives. But I wasn’t the sort of person strong enough to carry out that creed.” Freya took on a forlorn smile. “So, I chose to emulate the only person I knew who could. Nevertheless, my decision was made after a bit of prodding from an insidious person.” Mukuro examined the the nun's face and saw opaque disgust...and fear.

“Then after I left Fenrir, I wound up here. Setting up a church in this hive of lovable fools.”

“You had to know that we’d find you.” Mukuro reasoned.

“I banked on it. And I also planned on dying when you did. But not a second sooner, because I am finally happy. The villagers gave me a reason to live.”

“Then why are you satisfied with dying?”

“What good would stopping you do? If I defeated you here, Fenrir would only send more, stronger men. I can count my blessings they only sent one girl. That means they didn’t intend on mass-wiping the village. So long as they’re safe, I can consider this the best possible option.”

“I…could never be like you.” Mukuro frowned.

“That’s because you don’t know what to fight for. Mukuro, is there anything you love? Anything you want to protect?”

There was only one,

“…My little sister, Junko.”

“Ah, she must be quite adorable if she’s related to you.”

Mukuro nodded and smiled for the first time in ages. “Junko is perfect.”

“I see. That’s a good girl.” This time, Freya really did pat her on the head, ignoring the barrel pressed against her bosom.

“If you love Junko as much as I love the village then cherish and protect her at all costs.” Had Freya known her words would have helped usher in The biggest, Most Despairing event in Human History, she would never have uttered them.

“Now, that’s all I have to say. Please carry out your duties, soldier.” Freya stepped back, and. Once again, radiating the aura of a holy mother.

“What about the villagers?” Why was she looking for an excuse not to shoot?

“Don’t underestimate them. Those guys aren’t as dimwitted as you think, they probably saw through my lie at first glance and knew exactly who you were.”

Mukuro’s eyes widened.

“Now. Shoot.” Were Viktoria’s final words.

Mukuro pulled the trigger, and one of Fenrir’s fangs fell. It had been the easiest kill of the girl’s life. Mukuro knew she would need to leave as quickly as possible before the sound attracted others…but she also needed to take the body back for confirmation…

_‘*Sister Viktoria is our village’s treasure and is as much a part of it as the ground we walk on. We will never part with her’)_

Caleb’s words resounded in her mind. Mukuro knew…those men would probably chase her to the ends of the Earth if she removed the sister’s body from this town.

Thus, she abandoned it. Feeling not an ounce of regret for that action alone.

Mukuro had killed a woman. A better woman than most she’d ever known and more loved than anyone she’d ever known. If she wasn’t going to hell before, Mukuro had little doubt there were front row seats reserved for her now. In spite of that...

_'I…want to see Junko.'_

It felt like her heart was beating again.

 

- **Hel** -

 

A month after Freya’s death would herald Mukuro’s greatest, most difficult and final mission during her time in Fenrir. It was if all the others had been fodder to prepare for this moment; considering the timing being too close to her assassination of the former Fang, that was exactly what Mukuro believed. Their mission had splendidly simple directions. “Wipe this nation off the face of the Earth this night.”  The coverup would frame their actions as that of a natural disaster; all at the behest of the Japanese government. They would quite literally burn the place to the ground. Incendiary bombs, missiles, any weapon you could name short of nukes were available. Mukuro couldn’t imagine the amount of planning that had gone into this operation, and she never wanted to find out. She would complete it like all the rest. This tiny archipelago would go down in flames.

An army of elite men knelt behind her, numbering in the thousands. They were likely some of Fenrir’s best, but to her, they were no more than canon fodder to draw bullets and plant the bombs. These men were aware of that fact.

Just as Mukuro was aware that she too wasn’t the star of this play. The role of leading actor would go to the towering, pale-blonde haired man besides her. He stood tall at 210 centimeters. Beneath his black uniform were muscles, lean and hardened like iron. His chiseled visage was striking yet pale. Unlike the other Fangs she’d met, this one had not an ounce of extravagance, and that may have made him the most abnormal of all. His whole nature could be discerned at a glance. His empty, black eyes held no intensity, they were solemn and focused. He would ensure victory, without demeaning his enemy. He would shed blood, but he would not bathe and relish in it. He was not a noble man – He would kill even children as a casualty of the battlefield. Yet he was no monster. If a fight wasn’t necessary, he would kill none. If the enemy ran, he would not give chase. The ideal soldier; such was the nature of the strongest man in Fenrir, and believed to be the strongest in the world by the few who knew him. Thor. Cain Reinhart.

“Girl.” Cain’s voice boomed.

“What is it, Sir?” Mukuro’s voice came out meek by comparison.

“Where do your loyalties lie?”

“With Fenrir.”

“…No, your heart still beats. You do not belong here.” The man’s eyes scrutinized her. Not with reproach, but as a matter of fact. “Heed my warning, girl. Do not ever rest, even if the end is in sight. Do not let your guard down, be they friend or foe. Do not trust anyone. Not for an instant. For the moment you do, your end will be assured.”

Without waiting for an answer, Thor moved in front.

Mukuro blinked. Do not sleep? Was he implying she’d be able to after massacring all these people?

…

...Maybe he knew more about her than she’d like to admit.

The widespread blackout had been their signal, and in moments, the city would be illuminated again in flames. What happened afterwards was a blur. Screams, blood, corpses. Mukuro shut down her mind to ignore them all and slaughtered as many as she could. She could no longer discern from man, woman or child. If it moved in her sights then she killed it. If that person happened to be a comrade, then that was unfortunate.

It wasn’t long into the first hour that the authorities responded. SWAT teams and police cars flooded the streets and the battle turned fierce. It was clear to Mukuro that their efficacy was greatly diminished without ways of communication. They were too disorganized, and they made them easy pickings for her bullets. She killed swiftly, and replenished her ammunition with their own and used the buildings as cover. Several kilometres in every direction was free game, but the natives were outmatched.

There had been a pincer attack set-up. Mukuro with her platoon, Thor and Surtr with their own. The latter was in charge of the main explosives. Needless to say, they would be done before morning. The stragglers would be mopped up by missiles and bombs placed on power plants.

Mukuro would be off the island long before that.

After 3 hours on constant offensive, even she was starting to tire. Mukuro waded through the burning streets, not minding the mountains of bodies in her half-delirious state.

It was then that she witnessed the unbelievable. Mukuro spotted one man surrounded by a platoon of armed officers. The man in the center of encirclement was Thor, and he did not give the impression or fear of a man facing certain death. Like Mukuro, he did not have so much as a smear on his body. Thor gazed at his enemies dispassionately, daring them to fire. The men trembled even with their guns raised, every pore of their body was focused on soldier

And Mukuro saw that opening. With precise aim, she fired and one of the men’s heads exploded.

“Wha-!?”

“Cover!”

The men yelled, breaking their attention away from Thor. That sealed their fate, for in that instant, the man himself rushed for an officer and slit his neck, breaking the encirclement. He chose not to aim for the opening left by the officer Mukuro fell for two reasons:  This way, he lessened the enemy’s numbers by another count, and more importantly, this officer was larger than the other, and thus made for the better shield to defend against oncoming projectiles. The officer’s body took every last bullet aimed at Thor. The officers were too frightened by the brutality of this night to consider their actions properly and changed tactics. That too, was but another factor in their defeat. Once their magazines were depleted, Thor slaughtered all but one before they had the chance to recover. The one who survived merely ran.

Not for long however, because Mukuro shot him in the back. It had taken a little while for it to click that Thor wouldn’t chase after him.

“Why did you kill him?” Thor asked.

That was a question Mukuro wasn’t expecting. She hadn’t anticipated a word of gratitude, but the man sounded like he disapproved.

“We…were supposed to kill everyone.”

“A whelp who lost the will to fight would have died in the coming raid.”

“I don’t think it matters then. There’s not much difference between now and a few hours.” Even if she tried to save him, he’d have died like all the rest. Just like those kids. There’s no saving those who can’t fight on the battlefield. Besides, this time, the mission parameters were clear. Every single habitant would die.

“I wonder if you could tell _him_ those few hours were meaningless.” Thor countered. “Never mind. Your assistance was welcome.”

He thanked her anyway…

“They’re putting a surprisingly good fight. I would have thought they’d give up by now.” Mukuro breathed a sigh of fatigue.

“They likely believe backup from the mainland will arrive. How pitiful, they do not even realize their own leaders are the ones who sentenced them to the gallows?”

Their leaders? Mukuro never trusted clients, they were all too quick to stab the unsuspecting in the back. Then again, her trust in Fenrir itself wasn’t exactly ironclad anymore. “Are we going to get out of this? I…don’t think killing tens of thousands can be swept away with a simple cover story.”

“Whether or not this charade will work isn’t my concern. But I assure you that it _can_ , if ‘they’ wish it. Hiding a slaughter of this scale is a trifle for the ones who hold the real power in the world.”

“Like…the illuminati?” Mukuro gave a confused expression.

“A fake name, but the concept is the same…throw your knife at 3’o clock.” Thor commanded.

Mukuro Instinctively swung her arm in said direction. A yelp and a squelching noise followed. Mukuro turned her head to see her knife planted into the chest of a civilian holding a gun. He fell quickly.

“One had the courage to stay. Commendable.” Thor said. “Let’s go.”

“Before we started the operation. What did you mean when you said I didnx’t belong to Fenrir? I think I’m decently loyal.”

“…We are tools, for the sole purpose of murder. We need nothing else and think of nothing else. Would you consider yourself a tool?”

“…I don’t like the sound of it.”

 “In that case, is there anyone you would prioritize over this group?”

“Yes. My little sister.”

“Then you do not belong here. Fenrir only desires a tool, soldiers who don’t think and merely act on their behest. Those who think stand out and think like yourself are weeded out.”

Mukuro’s remembered Victoria at that moment. “Like Freya?”

“…Yes.” He answered after a time.

On that note… “This operation had a majority of Fenrir’s best soldiers. But I don’t see Valkyrie anywhere.”

“ _What?”_ Thor’s eyebrows ticked upwards by little over an inch, but that was more emotion that she’d seen from him up until this point. “Why would you expect to see Valkyrie?”

“Is she not suited for combat?” Mukuro tilted her head. “Then again, she did seem frail when I last saw her.”

”…When was that?”

“1 and a half years ago, sir.”

Thor halted in his tracks, and turned to face Mukuro with the utmost severity. Mukuro could almost believe he was angered by her words. “Do yourself a favor and forget that woman. If she has told you anything, I advise you pay no heed to her words.”

“That’s strange to say about a comrade.”

“Comrade? You’re a slow-learner. Reflect on what I’ve just told you.” Thor faced front, and the shootings started again.

Battle after battle ended and still, Mukuro had not a single injury on her body. She was starting to believe the mission was more tedious than it was difficult. Both physically and emotionally.

Here was one such example. The duo made… _killed_ their way into the capital building. However, they stumbled onto two children, likely huddled there for safety. It was a boy shielding a little girl, probably siblings. Mukuro’s thoughts instantly went back to the children back in Egypt.

Cain simply overlooked them, and she followed.

“Why don't you kill them?” Mukuro asked.

The Fang withdrew his knife from the heart of the island’s leader, then looked at Mukuro with a steely gaze

 “I don’t have the authority to reprimand a superior officer, I’m just curious…and I don’t like killing either.”

“You answered your own question. There are likely only a few left alive on this island, discounting our ranks. And he was the priority target. We’re done here, as far as I’m concerned. So long as nobody else wishes to fight, I won’t kill them. I will complete my mission, but I will not throw away my own principles.”

“Isn’t that contradicting our mission?”  
  
“You think I’m hypocritical?” He asked “You’d be right. That is what it means to be a soldier.”

“You think we’re contradictory?”

“Of course. Any soldier that has killed on the battlefield is, without exception, a hypocrite. We fight to serve our nations. Wonderful. But in doing so, we kill others, civilians and soldiers. Does it not boggle the mind? The stark difference between soldiers and murderers is that the former kills at the right place and time. And if they win, they’re labeled as heroes. What is that, if not a contradiction?”

“You sound like you don’t have a high opinion of soldiers.”

“I am describing the nature of war; where good men commit atrocities to survive and to protect. To protect and serve is to become a hypocrite. Morals don’t factor into the equation. It’s what you hold dear against everyone that would threaten it. And…if such a person does appear, what we do is obvious.”

“Blow them away.”

“We know other way. It doesn’t matter if your actions appear contradictory to others, as long as you never forget yourself, and never stop thinking. Now then, you do not serve Fenrir. Who do your allegiances belong to?”

There was only ever one “Junko, my only family.”

“To what extent would you serve?”

“I would do anything. If Junko ordered, I would take on the world.” Mukuro declared.

“Hmpf. And if you thought the order itself was wrong?”

“ Junko is never wrong.”

“A slow learner indeed. I just told you not to stop thinking. Only a fool would willing lead the masters they revere, to ruin. That is not loyalty.” He disparaged her,

“You wouldn’t understand.” He doesn’t know Junko.

“So long as this Junko is human then I cannot be wrong. Nobody is perfect. Complications that demand agency will always arise. The ones in charge of acting will need to respond accordingly. A soldier who only follows orders without understanding their weight, is worthless. No more than a machine.”

Mukuro glared. He had no idea how perfect Junko was.

“And you think, you understand loyalty best?”

“I do.” He said without a shred of falsehood. It was a remark brimming with arrogance, but this man sincerely believed it. “My loyalty is unassailable. I will act in the best interests of my organization, even if the ones pulling the strings are not aware of it.”

Mukuro blinked, feeling that Thor was hinting at something, then she realized the contradiction. Thor said Fenrir only needed tools, those to act on Fenrir’s orders, without wishes of their own. If you were not a tool, then you were not loyal to the group. But…he mentioned time and again that he never stopped thinking, and that she shouldn’t either. He even said he’d act against direct orders to preserve himself.

“And what is best for Fenrir?” She furrowed her brows.

Thor's lips moved. “To be put out of it’s misery.”

Mukuro’s eyes widened.  “You…”

The soldier raised his hands.

“Do…you hear that?” He squinted.

Mukuro’s instincts kicked into overdrive. It was a kind of sixth sense, and predominantly the reason why she had never been touched in combat. She acted almost autonomously and let the body do the moving for her. That’s why she ran to the nearest window and jumped out of the building.

Thor followed quickly behind.

5 seconds later, the building caught up in flames. An explosion was triggered in the room they were in.

Mukuro coughed. Soot staining her clothes “A bomb?” Why would one be planted there?

“Hmpf, so that’s how it is.” Thor stood and wiped his uniform, making some distance away from the burning building and the debris. But it would have been fine if that were the worst of their troubles.

Mukuro heard a familiar sound. Marching. The footsteps of a large number of men in unison. That meant soldiers. The other sound was heavy, loud and mechanical.

“A tank…no, maybe 2 or 3.” Thor said.

“Were we…”

“Are you surprised at this point?”

She wasn’t, really. One day, she expected Fenrir would betray her.

“That explosion was probably Surtr’s doing. That brat has always thought he could one-up me.” Thor said in an oddly fond tone, while surveying the ruined landscape. “That’ll do.” His gaze stopped at a giant pile of rubble. Was he looking for a barrier?

“Girl. Mukuro Ikusaba.” His voice boomed.

“Yes?”

“Sleep, for now.”

“Hu-“Before Mukuro could process what the man had said, he had already entered her blindspot, and with one action, the unthinkable happened. Mukuro had been touched for the first time and promptly knocked out.

...

  _“Puhuhuhu, drink up, sis.” Junko Enoshima was currently in the process of shoving the contents of a wine bottle down her sister's throat._

_“*cough* S-Stop Junko." Mukuro choked, as she moved away from her sister. "We’re minors. And what if mom and dad find us?”_

_“They won’t. I already knocked them out. Now shut the fuck up and drink!” The younger twin didn't relent._

_"Do I have to?"_

_"Okay fine. Be that way. Buuut, if you love me, don't dodge this." Junko used **that** smile. _

_"...Alright."_

_Junko ran off and came back with a steel bat. And it had Mukuro's forehead written on it._

_..._

_“Muku. I’m booored.” Junko rolled on the floor._

_“Should I do some tricks?” Mukuro wobbled to the side, a sheepish, dorky smile on her face - All the while, blood dripped from her forehead in disturbing quantities. She had gotten drunk anyway...because she temporarily lost the mental faculties to remember why she shouldn't._

_“Yeah, pull a vanishing act!”_

_“Eeeeh?”_

_“Ugh, this is so boring, and hot!" Impressive, given how little clothing she wore. "Why do we have to be stuck in this shitty resort when there’s a boatload of despair on the outside.”_

_“Despair?”_

_“Yeah, like wars and stuff.” Junko grabbed a Magazine and presented it to her elder sister  “Like with these losers.” The cover was an interview of a famed mercenary group. Mukuro had just enough sense to reject the propositon._

_“That’s no good, Junko. You could get hurt.”_

_“Doubt it, but if you’re so worried. You go and kick some ass for me!”_

_Mukuro blinked. The booze impaired her mental cognition more than usual_

_“Great idea huh. Think about all the despair you’ll get to see. Maybe I’ll even feel some despair if they send your corpse home.” Junko giggled._

_“That would make you…happy?”_

_“Duh!”_

_“…Okay, I’ll leave tomorrow.” Mukuro smiled_

_“God you’re such a fucking moron! You better tell me all about it when you get back.”_

_..._

Mukuro's eyes slowly lifted as she regained consciousness. 

That dream...How had she forgotten that?

“You’re awake.” A commanding voice stated. Mukuro immediately felt that she was being moved.

“Why did you knock me out?” She grumbled.

“I needed you alive and tossed you under cover. Now, I’ll get you out of here.” Mukuro was carried to a nearby chopper. It must have been privately owned. For reasons that were plainly obvious, they couldn't have been from the organization. That also implied that Thor was aware that he'd become a target.

"How did you get passed the tanks?" Mukuro asked.

"The oldest trick in the book." She detected faint exhaustion in his tone, and slipped off him to stand on her own feet.

Mukuro nodded in understanding. When faced with an opposition of greater numbers and strength, your only option would be to either retreat or find some way to turn their force against them. Neither choice was easy, but the latter option was near impossible under those circumstances. Especially with a unit as well-coordinated as Fenrir's. 

"However, I'm not done with them quite yet."

Mukuro didn't hear or sense anything nearby.

"Snipers?"

"No. But it isn't impossible for some stragglers to try to blow up the chopper mid-flight. You get on-board, and I'll act as a distraction."

The strategy was sound, and Mukuro wasn't about to disagree with preserving her own life. But...there was the matter of the air raid, which shouldn't be far off. Judging by the man's words, this was the only chopper available...

"Why are you trying to keep me alive?" Still, she asked anyway.

"Betrayed or not, I'm bound to Fenrir, the _old_ Fenrir. Before, it was transformed into the garbage you're seeing right now." He spat in contempt. "I hate to admit it, but I am also part of that scum and so I have no right to close the curtain...but you are different."

If one were to rephrase his sentiment, Mukuro was tantamount to the perfect pawn of his revenge.

"You know what you have to do now, right?"

"Yes." She'd have done it, even if he hadn't ordered it. Mukuro no longer had any time to play around.

Thor faced Mukuro as she boarded the helicopter.

"...How was Freya?" The iron in his voice softened.

"I think she was happy." Mukuro phrased, awkwardly. She was far from equipped to understand emotion, however she could not think the late sister was dissatisfied with her final days.

“I see.” Thor smiled. Anyone who knew the soldier would surely have expressed shock at the unveiled emotion, yet Mukuro didn't think it was incongruent with his character. With that, the fang turned his back on her and ran back into the battlefield.

It took only 10 minutes for the resulting sounds of explosions to reach their ears. That pilot rationalized that was the signal to take off, and not sparing another second, the chopper was in the air.

"What are these?" She scanned the interior and found a row of cases next to her. 

"Maps of all of Fenrir's bases and a bunch of equipment. I'm guessing you'll need them." The pilot replied

"Yeah."

Right now, Mukuro could only think of getting back to Junko as soon as possible. She could have abandoned the task of eliminating Fenrir altogether, but then she thought of what Junko would do.

It didn't take very long, because there was only one thing on Junko's mind at all times.

The urge to spread despair. And so Mukuro would bring despair upon the organization. She'd kill them all, commit their suffering to memory and relay their pain in explicit detail to Junko afterwards. She hoped Junko wouldn't be too mad after being presented with such a wonderful souvenir. 

Mukuro looked down at the terrain, and all she could see was fire and smoke rising. Not unlike the sun, currently. 

In more ways than one, and in the span of a single night, that tiny nation transformed into a hell on Earth.

  

- **Vanaheimr** -

 

In the months to come, Mukuro had made good on her promise. She'd ravaged bases and hunted down major officers relentlessly. At first they'd been unprepared for her attacks, but that changed and they went on the offensive quickly enough.

Not that it mattered, Fenrir had lost a bulk of their force thanks to the raid. Worse, they'd lost their main offensive due to their own cowardice. Mukuro knew Fenrir's tactics like the back of her hand and she couldn't be matched in combat. She had every advantage on the battlefield. On the other hand, that meant less sleep, and more anxiety. She could never be sure when Fenrir would send men after her, so even those luxuries were lost to her for a time.

But all of that would end today. At the top of the most recent base she'd sieged.

"It's my win." Mukuro declared to the fallen man.

"Looks...like it." One of Fenrir's greatest, Surtr laid on the ground, lungshot.  A large machine gun laid by his side, the bullets expended in the fight. Although Mukuro was hesitant to call it that; the elder Fang had orchestrated a warped game of cat and mouse. He'd spread weapons all over the terrain that were accessible to both of them. As per his nature, the area was also riddled with mines and explosives. Even some of the weapons themselves were equally compromised.

Unfortunately for him, he'd picked the wrong opponent.

"Not even as a singe on you. Damn freak." He said, grinning.

"Don't feel too bad. It's either I left this fight unharmed or dead." There was no in-between. Had Mukuro's reflexes been slower than the rapid-fire and the bombs, she would have died. She won, so she was naturally uninjured.

"Heh....hehehe...that explains why you've been such a pain in their asses." They referring to Fenrir.

"They brought this on themselves, wouldn't you agree?"

"True, it had to happen eventually. To be killed en masse because of your own insecurities...how lame."

...

"Why did you attack us on the island?" Mukuro inquired.

"They couldn't trust you. You never brought back Freya's body." He answered

Mukuro furrowed her eyebrows. The cowardice was disgusting; if Mukuro had known they'd react this way, then she wouldn't have killed the nun at all.

"Though, if you ask me. They had doubts about your sanity before that. The last mission was the best way to make use of you and to also dispose of you."

"I'm perfectly sane." Mukuro snarled.

"Preaching to the choir here." Surtr shook his head, and chuckled in pain. "Then again...this might be the one instance where I can understand those old fools; saying you met Valkyrie in a blizzard two years ago? Like hell, they'd buy that. However, you came back with the file in the allotted time. They didn't know what to think, except monitor your sanity."

"You're delirious." He's lost too much blood. Most likely, coherent thought was beyond him.

"Funny, I bet that's exactly what they thought of you, little lady. Let me be frank; Valkyrie...Kára Keirstein, died 3 years ago. Shortly before you joined." Surtr deadpanned.

Mukuro scrunched her face in surprise.

"...Impossible. You're the one who told me she was one of us." 

"I mentioned the Fangs that I've known during my time. I even included Freya, who also wasn't an active member." That was true

"Then, what about Anastasia Eclair?" Had she been lied to after all?

"Who?" Surtr blinked for a moment, before laughing. It was a half-baked gesture that stopped as blood poured out the man's mouth, staining his kimono a darker red. "...Oh, was that the name _that thing_ gave you?  You really should learn to spot an alias when you hear one. Anastasia? Lame as shit. It sounds like it didn't even _try_ and pulled that name out on the spot."

Now that Mukuro remembered

**_('A woman, one of my only comrades along with Cain and also one of Fenrir’s finest at the time. Her name was Kára.'_ _)_ **

_**('Why would you expect to see Valkyrie')** _

_**('Do yourself a favor and forget that woman. If she has told you anything, I advise you pay no heed to her words.')** _

"A fake?" Mukuro said.

"Yes and no. It was definitely no Valkyrie, but..I guess you could say it was one of us all the same...But man, you're pretty thick in the head to not notice anything strange about that monster. And yeah, I don't know what it is - monster, witch, god, devil...call it whatever you want but it ain't no human." He spoke of the spectre with repulsion.

"You sound like you're familiar with her."

"All of the Fangs were. And _only_ us. It never appears before anyone else, not even the commanders. Every time it shows up, it takes a different shape, yet always bearing a striking resemblance to the person we care about the most. I wonder why it even bothers; not one of us would ever mistake it's presence. Heh...probably just screwing with us. It never told us its purpose or its origin; it just comes and goes and does whenever it wants and when it 'comes', the visit is never pleasant." Mukuro agreed on the last part whole-heartedly, she had never met a more hateful person. "Blasted thing, was probably the one who convinced Freya to ditch this place."

...

"Does it have a real name?" Mukuro asked.

"We don't know, but the four of us called it the un-spoken Fang, The Trickster, Loki."

"Why didn't you tell our superiors?"

"...You really are dense. Look what happened when _you_ did. They tried to put a bullet in your back. This job is like walking on thin ice - Stir the foothold and it'll collapse from underneath you.'

"Doesn't look like the situation ended up any better for you, did it?"

"True that." He smiled. Come to think of it, Surtr had been far more subdued than the person she remembered. There was almost none of that insanity he showed a few years ago.

"My Valhalla reached a dead end...huh?" He said solemnly  "Well, it was bound to happen. If anything, I'm surprised a crazy bastard like me outlived the other three...wait, Cain kicked the bucket right?"

"Probably. I don't see how he could have gotten out of the air raid. The entire island was wiped out came morning."

"...Then you didn't see the body? No good then, that bastard always pulls one over on me." Surtr smiled, almost childishly. It wasn't an expression she expected to see on the man.

"You'd better get out of here, by the way." He said, abruptly. "You're not the only one who's been busy. I've been to all of Fenrir's bases in my time, and let's just say I've left a present for those assholes in each and every one of them, to be unwrapped at the time of my unlikely demise."

"Of course, that also includes the base we're standing on." He looked at Mukuro suggestively

"You-" Without finishing her sentence, Mukuro  was already running for the exit.

"Hahahaha." Surtr laughed lowly, Mukuro's footsteps becoming fainter by the moment. "Serves those bastards right. I'll be glad to give them one middle-finger for the road."

He'd hold out long enough for his comrade-in-arms to vacate the blast radius. That was his tribute to the victor. He hated the thought of dying more than anything, but he held no grudge to the winner. Surtr never cared who he fought, if they presented a challenge then all the better. Whether they lived or died, on the other hand, was none of his concern, but his principles were another matter. His very core was that of a man who only ever paid attention to his own desires...and so...

"It's not too bad going out with a bang."

12 minutes later, Fenrir's legacy came to an end as its headquarters, camps and everything in-between blew sky-high. Surtr planned for this eventuality years in advance, stealthily planting explosives in every base he came across. With the intention of wiping the group off the face of the Earth. His reasons weren't out of spite or some petty revenge. Rather, this had been the plan from the very start, regardless of whether he won or lost. This was his mission from the start, to be completed if he felt Fenrir was too far gone. Thanks to Ikusaba running wild, Fenrir had needed him more than ever, and he'd been giving access to the last few bases and the last few target points for setting up the bombs.

In truth, Surtr was a man with an even greater sense of loyalty than Cain, and he was certainly not the mad dog he made himself out to be. He would never betray his masters, even if he were to be discarded as a pawn. His resolve was so great that he threw away his true name for the sake of his longest and most arduous mission, he did not even remember it. Even now, aiding Mukuro Ikusaba in the destruction of Fenrir was an example of that loyalty. Surtr merely did what he did best.

_**Follow orders from above.** _

...

Mukuro stepped out of a shower in the low-ranked hotel she'd lodged in. 

She sighed, feeling the tension seep from her body, while putting on her clothes. The soldier managed to escape the explosion. Afterwards, she traveled to other locations to discern if Surtr stayed true to his word. She verified it with her own eyes; every location she went to only showed signs of rubble.

The invincible beast, whose path of destruction trailed back to nearly a millennia had its flesh torn asunder, its fangs crushed to pieces, its claws ripped apart and its eye gouged out. All at the hands of a single girl, no older than age 16, and had not a scratch to show for her efforts.

"That was a bit anti-climactic." She didn't think Junko would be satisfied with a half-baked conclusion. 

"I think it's fitting for a mad dog to be put down with a whimper."

Mukuro's eyes widened upon hearing the amused voice. Sitting on a chair with legs crossed was an elderly man. His appearance was meek but his aura was deceptively docile. And yet he was here, without her noticing he was in the room, and somehow knew her thoughts.

It can't be..."Loki?" She whispered.

The old man scrunched his face in confusion. "The trickster of a god? There shouldn't be anyone of that codename employed in Fenrir's ranks."

Come to think of it, Surtr claimed that Loki had a distinct presence that would always be recognizable. This man didn't give off the same atmosphere and he certainly didn't remind her of Junko. Nevertheless, she determined that he was dangerous. Mukuro moved steadily to the cabinet next to her, where her gun was stashed. 

"No need to be frightened, I am not here as your enemy. Nor am I remnant of those misguided fools you destroyed. If anything, it is the opposite. I am Kazuo Tengan, and my purpose here is to congratulate you on a job well done." The old man smiled kindly. Yet she didn't miss how he spoke of Fenrir as if it were a domestic pet.

"Do you really think I'll believe that?"

"That choice is yours. I am telling the truth, and I have a proposition for you. One, I don't believe you will decline."

"Is that a threat?" Mukuro narrowed her eyes

"Not in the slightest. As I said, I am not your enemy. I'm nothing but a retired school principal. Surely, not someone that could tango with The Ultimate Soldier." He laughed.

"Ultimate Soldier?" She tilted her head as she slowly reached for the cabinet handle.

"Yes, that will be your official title at Hope's Peak Academy."

"A school? Never heard of it." Mukuro frowned.

"I am not surprised given you've been quite busy lately." Mukuro gripped the leather handle, with her finger placed on the trigger. "But you should know that your sister will be attending."

The raven-haired girl froze. "Junko's going?" Her hostility faded at the mere mention of her little sister's name.

"Yes. HPA does not accept applications, you see. We scout the very most talented children from across the globe, then research and develop those skills. Junko Enoshima has been chosen as the Ultimate Fashionista."

"One of the conditions is that a student needs to be enrolled high school for at least one year, but I've decided to make an exception in your case."

"That's some power for a _retired_ headmaster." Mukuro propped the gun and poised it at Tengan.

"My dear, I have more power than I know what to do with nowadays.Therefore I suggest you put down that little toy. From this distance, you would not even be able to pull that trigger." A steely gleam could be seen from the grey eyes behind Tengan's glasses. Like a predator observing it's prey.

"Request denied."

Tengan chuckled grimly

"That hot-blooded-ness of youth is an endearing trait, certainly one to be admired in the young. It is such a pity that is also often the cause for their deaths."Tengan shook his head as a mournful expression appeared on his aged features. "Frankly, I am tired of seeing the blood of children spilled. But I don't suppose you are."

If not for the question, Mukuro would have wondered if Tengan was addressing her at all. "I don't really care."

"Very well. Regardless, I intend to put an end to it, once and for all. And you will help."

"I have no intention of getting caught up in any more shady business."

"I told you. You will accept this proposition for It is your fate, and you cannot turn away from it. I am here as a measure of good will; you would go down this path any way and out of your own volition."

"What makes you think you know me?"

"Mukuro Ikusaba. I have lived a long time, and yet there are still quite a few things in this world that I do _not_ know. You are not one of them." Tengan replied. Before Mukuro could question the man further, her door snapped open.

"Tengan, you're taking too long~" Whined a blond woman, only slightly older than Mukuro stepped in. She wore a black tuxedo and tied her hair tired up into a pony tail. Her bright blue eyes scanned the room to witness Mukuro's gun poised at the old man.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked, eyes narrowing.

Mukuro wondered if she was too much of a dullard to understand the situation. Unlike Tengan, this one's presence was transparently unremarkable. Not lacking, but not anything special either. She was...splendidly typical.

The interference strolled up to Mukuro, making light of the weapon in the girl's hands.

Mukuro considered the possibility of a ploy concocted between the two, but a quick glance at Tengan, showed the man exasperated at the interruption and no less relaxed than before. In that split moment, 

Mukuro gasped at the advance, and froze up. That she didn't dodge on instinct meant the woman had no intention of harm.

Instead, she...did up the buttons on Mukuro's open shirt.

"Much better. A girl shouldn't be showing her goods. Not without paying, if it comes to that." 

Mukuro cocked her head in confusion.

"Would you refrain from such distasteful implications?" Tengan sighed.

"Hmm. A somewhat famous old man and a teenage girl in a hotel? Isn't this the type of setting to cause scandals? You're both lacking in a bit of common sense, I'd say"

"You're the ones who barged into my room." Mukuro stepped back and sighed as well, putting her gun to the side. She didn't know who these people _really_ were but they were abjectly more annoying than they were a genuine threat.

"That right? Sorry, sorry.  We'll be out of your hair . Isn't that right, headmaster?" While she appeared a Westerner at first, Mukuro could see minor traces of Japanese descent on the woman's features, up close.

"Yes. I believe I've said most of what I need to." Tengan finally stood from his seat, and without another word, walked out of the room.

"Let's meet again, Mukuro Ikusaba. I think we might become good friends one day." The blond closed the distance again and pecked Mukuro on the cheek.

"E-Eh?" Mukuro blushed furiously.

"That's a greeting from my hometown." Without waiting for a proper response, the older girl turned around and exited with a wave of the hand.

Junko had always disparaged Mukuro over her lack of femininity, but this girl's advances were too straightforward, devoid of any semblance of gender appropriate behavior.

The only evidence left that they'd been here was the letter of acceptance on the table.

"...Hope's Peak, huh?" Mukuro said to herself. At the very least, she should call Junko and confirm with her.

Going to school or not didn't matter, as long as her sister was there. Her Valhalla is wherever Junko was.

Suddenly, Mukuro pouted "She'll probably yell at me."

...

Tengan took a step outside of the hotel, walking solemnly in the street. He lifted his head up to Mukuro's window, gazing with eyes of pity.

"Pitiable child." She had no idea as to the fate in store of her.

"One day, I will save you as well. If not in this world, then the next" He would never stop walking, not until his goal was attained. 

Then the former headmaster's thought shifted to more professional matters. It was disappointing to see the project he'd worked so hard on end in such a pitiful note, but that is the nature of the world. Everything degrades with time and Fenrir was no longer useful. It was for the best that the beast was put out of its misery.

Right on time, a black limousine pulled over. The door opened and he stepped inside. His blond partner made her way in after him.

Tengan and the driver aside, the limo now had three other occupants.

The first was a small boy, younger than Mukuro Ikusaba, every bit as skilled and had even less emotional maturity. His hair was jet and his eyes were as red as the blood of his victims. He was a weapon, a naked blade that would would slash all those close to him and even his own master if used improperly. Yet strangely, the boy had a certain preference of targets, and would only unveil his violent passion on other killers.

The second was a tall man with pale blond hair. He was impassive as steel and one of the strongest men on the planet. There were none of the battlefield who didn't know his name...or rather, his former alias. He spared Tengan a glance of recognition. Even now, years after they last made contact, his loyalty had not wavered.

"It's been a while, everyone. Especially you Takumi, you grew up." The woman to Tengan's right was the one who followed him into the hotel. Comparatively, she radiated an aura even less imposing than the boy's, however, anyone who knew her would confess that she was arguably the most impressive existence of the three. As evidenced by how she reached over to pat the smaller boy on the head without reservation or fear.

The child, Takumi Hijirihara brushed her hand away, while playing with a video game.

"How are matters on your end?" Tengan asked the girl.

"Taken care of. But next time, I wish you'd given me a heads up before you raze an island to the ground. Do you know how hard it was to hide that from mom and dad?" She engaged in playful banter. The issue of shrouding the true cause of the deaths on Higashide island was child's play for someone of her status. For she was one of the two surviving siblings of the ruling class family's war.

"I wasn't made aware until Fenrir had accepted such an abominable operation." Tengan scoffed. He was far from a saint and no stranger to the destruction of an entire island's worth of inhabitants. But that was all the more reason for his decision - There were some lines that shouldn't be crossed.

"And so, you decided it was finally time to cut them loose." Takumi said, blankly. He held no feelings towards the result either way.

"Yes, now onto the next phase...the Izuru Kamukura project." Tengan said.

The woman shifted slightly. It was a motion so minor that most wouldn't catch it, but they did.

"Does the experiment bother you?" Tengan raised an eyebrow, knowing full-well that she would be averse to it.

"No. I know my limits." She replied.

"And that is your most endearing trait. Many years have passed since I first gave you that lesson and while those circumstances weren't the best, I pray you haven't forgotten them. So long as you understand your limitations, you will never lose to anyone."

"And yet, I will never achieve anything until I challenge them, right?" She smiled, sadly.

Tengan said nothing. For there was nothing to say.

The woman flipped her golden locks as she changed the subject, directing an impish smile to the soldier who'd kept quiet the whole time "Cain did well for us. So did...ah, I don't remember the younger brother's name. But who will inherit Fenrir's seat now? "

"Abel." The tall man spoke, directing his cold gaze towards the woman. "Those were the names Tengan gave to us. Don't forget it."

"Why would you antagonize him on purpose? There's no way _you_ forgot." Takumi raised his head, looking away from the screen of his device.

"I wanted to see how he'd react, and I'm pleased with the result. Family should always protect each other, even if the other isn't around anymore. I'm sure he'd be happy to know you're defending him even now." 

"Hmpf, I doubt he'd admit to that easily." The man once known as Fenrir's strongest, Cain Reinhart, smirked. He lived a contradictory and hypocritical lifestyle. Many thought him the greatest soldier, but the few who _knew_ him, were also aware that his true talent lied in espionage.

"Probably not. Younger brothers are the most precocious creatures in the world." She laughed.

This moment of peace was an ode to a fallen comrade.

"As for your question." Tengan interrupted "I already have a few ideas for Fenrir's replacement. There's a man I have expectations for, but he has yet to ever meet them."

"Ah, you mean Munakata. Not a bad choice, providing he doesn't drop the ball along the way." Takumi spoke up. He was closest to Tengan. Despite his young age, he was the former headmaster's premier bodyguard.

"As for _your_ preparations?" Tengan inquired to the man and woman.

"The Neverminds are behaving according to plan." Cain spoke. 

"And you?" The headmaster turned to the blond.

"What preparations? Any help I'd offer would just slow Him down."

...

The group sighed in unison.

"In that one aspect, you are beyond salvation." Tengan felt a headache coming along. "I suppose it doesn't matter in the end. All of our efforts mean nothing unless those children succeed."

"Children? Your hope rests in one person." Takumi said.

"Indeed, the future rests in the hand of one person. Let us hope he doesn't disappoint us this time." Tengan took off his glasses

They, who could be considered the rulers of the world placed their bet on a single, average boy.

"Makoto Naegi. I implore you to open the gate for us."

A boy that would inevitably bring down The Ultimate Despair.

 

- **Miðgarðr** -

 

There was no fanfare when Mukuro returned home. She rang the doorbell and waited for a response. Junko finally came out several minutes afterwards, staring at Mukuro blankly. 

"Hi...I'm home." Mukuro said.

"Who are you?" Junko tilted her head

"Mukuro. Your sister?"

"Never heard of you." Junko slammed the door in her face

Mukuro sighed "Of course." She reasoned that Junko hadn't grown out of her hell-raiser phase. To be fair, it was mostly Mukuro's own fault. How do you disappear from home for 3 years and expect to be welcomed back with open arms? Even she could understand a premise that faulty. If Junko could wait 3 years, she could wait a few more minutes

Junko didn't open the door after five hours.

"Alright...I get it. I'll go to a hotel somewhere." As Mukuro turned away from the door, it opened and Junko tackled her from behind 

"Where the hell  do you think you're going? You show up after three fucking years and you just _leave_ again? Some big sister you are." Junko whined.

"W-Wait, have you been waiting there the whole time? Why didn't yo-"

"Shut the fuck up and don't ruin the moment!"

She stayed like that for 30 seconds.

"K, I'm done. And jesus, you stink. Take a shower." Junko plugged her nose.

"I don't think I-"

"Shower, now! Be a good sis and I might even join you~"

 Mukuro wanted to remark how strange that sounded at their age, but she wasn't planning on pushing her luck. If Junko was anything like she was before, her mood could turn sour in an instant. In the middle of their shower, Mukuro told Junko about her adventures. The fashionista was especially keen on the killings...or to be precise, their reactions to being killed. Mukuro withheld information about her meetings with Viktoria and the disguised Valkyrie. The former because she didn't want the Sister to be mocked and the latter, because Mukuro herself wanted to forget that interaction entirely.

All things considered, Junko was satisfied. But right before the two went off to bed, Mukuro asked a particular question "Where are mom and dad?"

"Gone." Was all Junko responded with. 

Mukuro didn't know what she meant...and she didn't ask any further.

...

Mukuro earnestly believed she had already undertaken the most arduous task of her life. But the skills she learned in battle were appearing less and less useful amidst proper civilization. She overreacted to what was considered trivial stimulus here. Like one time, one of her new "classmates", Kuwata placed his arm around her shoulder and she flipped him onto the ground on impulse. Junko laughed, but Mukuro felt she was the one being laughed at. The others were either too scared, or laughed with her sister.

She'd by lying if didn't bother her.

...

"Ugh, you're such a moron! How can you be related to me!?" Junko whined at Mukuro's test results.

Her grades were expectedly awful. She had never attended middle school, and she only knew basic arithmetic. Otherwise, Mukuro got by in geography, English and phys.ed classes. Though the gap wasn't big. She was first in class at Geography, but only marginally ahead of Togami. The heir seemed content to balance his loss with beating her in English. Mukuro didn't mind. What she did feel intimidated by, was coming second in gym, to Ogami.

The ogre held the title of strongest fighter in the world. But Mukuro didn't agree one bit. Ogami was strong, sure. However, she was still a mere civilian; she'd never experienced the haggard of war.

 "Sakura~, over here!" Junko approached the martial artist.

"Good day to you, Enoshima. Is there something you need?" Sakura smiled back.

"Yeah yeah. Mukuro here wants to spar with you." Junko said out of the blue.

"Eh? I didn't-" Mukuro on the other hand, had no idea what she was talking about.

"See, she's too shy to even admit it. Do my sis a favor, will ya?" 

"Is that true, Ikusaba?" It was a testament to Ogami's cordiality that she asked to confirm with Mukuro at all. Junko had a way with words and a charisma that drew people to her, Most would go along with whatever she said said without giving Mukuro a second thought. Honestly, consideration of that degree made Mukuro uncomfortable. She was better accustomed to being mistreated or given orders.

"...Yes." She might as well make use of the opportunity.

"Great!" Junko said. "Let's do it later this week."

"Why then?"

"I have to sell tickets, idiot." Junko replied.

...

The day of their match finally came...and Junko evidently wasn't kidding about those tickets. There were dozens of students, and even teachers on the bleachers. Mukuro kept her eyes planted to the ground. Their cheers of anticipation was already nerve-wracking enough, if he looked at them, she might pass out.

"My condolences, I didn't expect such a crowd either. Are they a bother?"

Mukuro shook her head. "It's fine. I'm ready when you are." After everything she's been through, a few civilians weren't going to bring her down.

The raven-haired girl blocked out excess noise, assumed her stance and charged at the Ogre - She'd defeat Ogami as efficiently as all the rest.

...

"I...lost." Mukuro breathed out. She, who had never sustained a single injury in all of her missions, was soundly defeated. She didn't count Cain because he was an ally, but she was ready this time. Every time Mukuro bolstered her efforts, Sakura did as well, and despite Mukuro's attempts, she couldn't evade the ogre's blows.

_**('if you ever get ahead of yourself and think along the lines of “I’m the greatest”, this scene will remind you that there is always someone better.')** _

After the match she sat down in the locker rooms alone, her mind still coming to terms with how she could have been bested by someone who had never stepped a foot on the battlefield, and at best, trained in the comfort of a safe environment. While she had suffered torture in Fenrir's camp.

"This is a bad joke." She couldn’t handle anything in this foreign land. But a fight? That was supposed to be the one place where she could shine.  

"Tell me about it. I can't believe you got decked like that...okay, I definitely can. But it was super funny to see." Junko came around.

Mukuro didn't pay nearly as much attention to her sister as she normally would, but she answered anyway. "It would have been different if I could you use my guns."

"Pfft, that's your excuse?" Junko stared at her the soldier coldly. "You really are boring. You're the one who fought, so why am I the one better able to judge your opponent's competence?"

Junko loomed over Mukuro and perked the freckled girl's chin up with her nails.

"A gun? A knife? Irrelevant, all of it. All you'd have done is made Sakura take you seriously."

"W-What?" Mukuro whispered.

Upon seeing Mukuro's dumbfounded expression, Junko let go."Puhuhuhu, you really are hopeless; did you think I didn't notice the way you looked down on us? We, who had the balls to live and adapt to society while you were off in your little escapist fantasy? The only reason I set you up against Sakura was to see that arrogance of yours knocked down a peg."

Mukuro grit her teeth."I could have won, we wont' know for sure unless I tried."

"Oh? Then you think that I, Junko Enoshima, am wrong? Or...is it that you're calling me a liar?" Junko's eyes widened a fraction at the unexpected reply. She was taking great pleasure in watching Mukuro's mind reeling over the ramifications of her statement. She'd denied what Junko claimed as truth, and that was a sign of individuality. Maybe her sister had grown playing with those dogs.

"....No, you're right as always, Junko. I lost."

'Yeah, right. Once a disappointment, always a disappointment' - Junko thought.

"Why do I even bother with you?" The fashionista facepalmed, having her fill of the conversation. She turned away from Mukuro. "Whatever. Welcome to real world, and I hope you're ready for a real taste of despair."

"I don't know about how tough you've had it...but...I think I've seen more despair than you have." Mukuro didn't know where that burst of defiance came from, but she couldn't let Junko get away with that comment. It would have demeaned everything she, and the comrades she'd respected had gone through.

Junko stopped in her tracks, and looked back to the soldier in confusion.

She saw Mukuro sporting a half-way pathetic expression; as if Mukuro wasn't sure if she was permitted to glare at her sister. But that was was of no importance next to Mukuro implying that she had experienced a greater despair than Junko had. That was no different than a challenge.

'Maybe she's not completely hopeless.' Junko smiled on the inside 'However, that doesn't mean I won't punish her.' Mukuro had already lost to Sakura this day, no reason Junko couldn't go for the double-whammy.

"I forgot, sis." Junko smiled sweetly.

Mukuro's senses spiked at the sight. She knew Junko only had the worst intentions when she smiled. "It's fine. I don't want to hear it." Whatever 'it' was, she didn't know. But it could be nothing good.

"No good. Sakura told me to deliver you a message, after you walked off like that." Junko's smile increased as she proceeded to mimic the martial artist's voice was frightening accuracy.

"Sparring with your sister was an exhilarating experience, and I would like to train together more. She is, without a doubt, are _one of the strongest foes I've fought_." Sakura Ogami uttered those words as a kindness, a respect for her defeated foe. But Junko was nothing, if not a master of ripping apart one's pure intentions and warping them for the sole purpose of causing others pain. This case was no different.

Mukuro felt her very existence being invalidated by the second.

"One of...?" That implied there was at least one more person out there that was also better than Mukuro. “What...is this place?” What had she slaved away for during those torturous 3 years?

"So you can make that kind of face too. Hehehehe-hahahaahahaha!" Junko gave a genuine laugh. "It was worth coming here after all."

...

Mukuro wanted nothing more than to leave this school. She could do nothing right here. Junko had left Mukuro to wander off on her own after being satisfied. Of course, her sister didn't tell her it was raining outside, and Mukuro didn't have an umbrella.

So she had no choice but to walk out in the rain. The droplets impacting her head stopped suddenly. 

Mukuro lifted her head to see an umbrella hovered over.

"Guess you got caught up in the weather too, huh? Weird, the forecast said it'd be sunny all day." A boy to her side poked her shirt. She'd been too distraught to notice someone else touched her. Not that it mattered now, her claim-to-fame of never being injured in battle was already shattered.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Mukuro stared down at the boy with unkempt brown hair.

"Eh? You don't know me...but I'm in your class." He pouted.

Ah...he was that unremarkable boy. What was his name again?

"Makoto. Makoto Naegi." He introduced himself.

She supposed it was only polite to do the same. "I'm Mukuro Ikusaba."

"Haha, I know that. I don't think there's anyone in the school who doesn't know you. Especially after today."

Mukuro wasn't sure if the repeated psychological blows had gotten to her, but she felt an impulse to dismember Naegi on the spot for that comment. In fact, she just might-

"You were really amazing out there. I didn't even think it was possible to move like that." Naegi made exaggerated motions until he almost tripped over himself.

"But I lost." To Mukuro, losing was little better than dying. What did he see that was worthy of praise?

"Yeah, but you still put up a great fight. I don't think there's anybody else in school that could take on Sakura like that." Nevertheless, he praised her still.

"I don't understand." It was one of many things in this new world that she couldn't comprehend 

"This place is too difficult." Self-loathing bubbled up from within. Her comrades would have ridiculed her.

"You mean school? Are you having a hard time fitting in?" 

Mukuro nodded.

"Man, I know how that feels. I only got accepted because I won a lottery."

"You seem happy enough."

"Yeah, because I've made friends here."

"Friends?" What was that? Another foreign element that she could never understand.

Naegi nodded. "If you're having trouble fitting in, then let me help. You can start by being friends with me."

"...Why would you want to be acquainted with me?"

"Why not?" He replied simply.

It was at this point where Mukuro would regularly list off her many, many faults. But right now, she had hit a level of depression, she'd never experienced. She was exhausted. "Never mind. I'm leaving this school anyway."

"Eeeeh? Why would anyone want to leave Hope's Peak?" The very thought was incomprehensible to an Ultimate fanboy like himself?

"There's nothing for me here."

"...What about Enoshima? Aren't you two sisters?"

"Junko doesn't need me." Doesn't 'care' was what Mukuro wanted to say, but couldn't bring herself to accept.

"That doesn't sound right. She talks about you all the time."

Mukuro's face perked slightly "Nothing good, I bet."

"Yeah, they're mostly derogatory, but she says it with a smile. Compared to that, Enoshima doesn't even _notice_ me." Naegi pouted. Mukuro understood. Junko would have zero interest in someone as ordinary as Naegi. Junko only breaks what she loves...

The realization hit her like bricks - That's right...Junko only hurts the ones she cares about. Maybe that was Junko's way of trying to show her affection.

 "You're right." Mukuro smiled at Naegi. She had almost forgotten. She was the only one who could understand Junko's eccentricities. And if she left, Junko would be alone again.

"You've got a nice smile yourself." He said

But Mukuro thought his was much better than hers ever could be. She could certainly believe what he said about having friends.

"So...did you and your sister get into a fight?"

"Yes. It was my fault, I have to apologize." She would have even if it wasn't.

"II wonder, but I guess that's what older siblings gotta do." Naegi giggled.

Although, in this case, Mukuro thought that logic was a bit strained. Junko was perfect, she had no flaws. If there was a mistake, then it was the fault of another.

Junko is cute - (The most beautiful existence on this Earth. No amount of sin or horror would tarnish her splendor)

Junko is honest – (She does not hide her true nature - Everyone else simply lacks the ability to understand her.)

Junko is endearing – (She puts the utmost sincerity in her efforts to grant despair to her loved ones) 

Junko is absolutely not evil – (For Mukuro knew the face of true evil. A monster with a heart of ice, perpetually overlooking everything and everyone from on-high with a cruel sneer)

That's right. Junko was her reason for living. Her happiness. And she would protect her sister from anyone and anything. If they weren't loyal to Junko, then they were enemies that needed to be exterminated.

Mukuro braved wars, rebels, soldiers, armies, master assassins and even a nation for her sister. And she felt the greatest and most arduous test of her loyalty would be here, at a high school.

The two Ultimates trekked to their dorms. Naegi carrying on the bulk of the conversation while Mukuro listened in silence, captivated by the boy's amity and straightforwardness. Neither of them ever noticed the figure watching them from afar, sporting a smile that could not be considered genuine by any stretch of the imagination. The figure of a slender woman with its back resting to a tree. Her skin almost transparent, and hair as blue as the sea. Even amidst the rain, it's body was dry.

More children passed by but none took notice of Its presence. Naturally, as It was no more than a wandering specter, without a body to be found. Although It could force others to recognize itself, it would take a considerable amount of energy and they would never remember the interaction- thereby making the action pragmatically unsound. Nevertheless, It did so occasionally when the silence grew too much to bear. Fortunately there were other ways. Some could see the spirit by themselves. Either through talent that challenged the boundaries of humanity or, in most cases, have experienced psychological decline. The catalyst shared between the two principles was simple; the human in question must have escaped the mundane. For anyone wondering, Mukuro fell into both categories.

What manner of creature was this existence? God, Devil, Witch. It  could no longer remember the origin, but It existed nonetheless. As an observer of the end of the world. Often, that end manifested in the form of Junko Enoshima, a child who attended this talent-obsessed institution. And It doubted this world would end any differently. For example, It had already seen the signs of repetition. The conversation those two children just had was one the figure had heard before. Many, many times before. Perhaps not in the same place, or even at the same time, or maybe the context of their conversation was slightly different, but the core would be the same.

" **This is so boring.** " The figure remarked.

However there was a silver lining. This world repeated the last, but there were always differences; for each world deviated slightly from the last. Were it not for those minor disparities, It would have gone mad long ago. It needed to be patient and await that miraculous moment. If what It sought did not appear in this would, there was a chance it would in the next, or the next after. 

The infinite would become finite.

Junko Enoshima could not keep winning forever. 

And when The Ultimate Despair was finally defeated, then... _then,_ the free-for-all could begin in earnest. And it all starts on Jabberwock Island.

" **Ha...haha...hahahaha."**  Suppressed snickers gave way to roaring laughter. The azure demon's eyes glistened with malice with anticipation for the promised time.

It was too warped an existence to comprehend the state of mind known as hope and it sure as hell did not possess the capacity for emotions such as despair.

'Loki' vanished like mist, and the storm with It.


End file.
